Blood Pact
by Zyzyax
Summary: Written for Spyfest 2019 week two. Prompt: "There's one secret everyone takes to the grave." Set in The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by Pongnosis. This is a slight AU set in the time Alex is recovering from his bruised ribs at Malagosto. Alan Blunt retired early, but it was cut short.


**Blood Pact**

* * *

For someone who was supposedly free of secrets, Alex kept a lot of them from his employers. Well, he was Orion now and technically _Orion_ had no secrets from _Cossack_, but Alex Rider had plenty of secrets kept from Yassen Gregorovich. Alex knew that excuse would hold absolutely no water if it ever came to head. The urge to snort at that very bad pun was probably a bad sign. It was currently breakfast time at Malagosto. Alex knew instantly that something was off when he was getting some very odd looks from his teachers. He took the liberty of sitting across from Ross. The man was usually quite talkative. Seeing him quiet and somewhat pale was interesting. "Is anyone going to share why I'm suddenly getting looks like I'm the Grim Reaper?"

Gordon twitched. "You got a package."

Alex gave the man an amused look. "Gordon, I get pipe bombs at least once a month. If I was going to go ballistic, I would have."

Alex was still surprised at the number of puns he could get away with as long as he delivered them in a bland deadpan. For some reason, people thought he wouldn't actually get his mail searched. Alex wasn't sure why. Maybe it was desperation? "No, another kind of package."

Alex rolled his eyes and helped himself to the salt. "Are you going to make me play twenty questions all morning or are you going to tell me what's in the package?"

Alex left off the part where all of them looked absolutely terrified. He hadn't gotten looks like this since, well, ever. He knew he was pretty much the SCORPIA version of a boy scout. Looks like this were normally for Yassen or a board member in a particularly bad mood. You know, the _actual_ homicidal maniacs. For the love of God, he was even still healing from a chest injury. There was no reason people should be this afraid. "Someone named Red sent you Alan Blunt's head."

Alex had a hard time resisting a smirk. "That rhymes."

Gordon just looked at him. "You don't seem very surprised."

Alex sighed. "Look, Blunt had a lot of enemies. If one of them decided to send me his severed head, I'm not going to complain very hard."

The very suspicious looks told him that absolutely no one believed that excuse. To be fair, they were actually correct in this case, but Alex wasn't about to say so. That would be gauche. And get him in a lot of trouble. Blunt was technically retired, but SCORPIA hadn't taken the "capture him alive if possible" notice off his file yet. "Alex, really?"

Gordon was a lot of things, but subtle was not something Alex would ever accuse him of being. "Gordon, I have at least twenty witnesses that I was here with around his probable time of death. Unless you're saying I have magic teleportation powers, there is no way I cut off his head and sent it to myself. And if I had magic teleportation powers, I wouldn't take the airport. Nobody likes airports."

Alex heard a cough that was likely a disguised snort. Well, it was true. Nobody liked airports. They were even designed to make you want to leave as fast as possible. "We figured you contracted somebody."

Somebody terrifying, apparently. Alex was still unsure why they were all scared shitless if they knew he didn't do it. "Nah, wasn't me."

All of his teachers were giving him a look that suggested he was lying. "Everybody knows you hated the man."

Alex thought it was cute that they thought they would get it out of him. "Everybody knows you do, too. Gordon. Why am I always the first suspect?"

He set his silverware down with slightly more force than necessary. With that, Alex got up and left. What? He needed to play the part a bit. If he didn't get "angry" at the "implication", it would definitely be a sign he actually did it.

* * *

Gordon shot Jet a look. "Think he ordered it?"

Jet rolled her eyes. "Is the sky blue, Gordon? Wouldn't you, if you knew an assassin who would take the contract?"

Gordon shrugged. "Well, yeah. I might have ordered a few extras."

Jet sighed. "He did, though. Several pertinent sections of the Geneva Declaration were carved into the torso of the corpse. It was in the news."

Gordon glanced at her. "The rights of children?"

Jet shook her head. "What else?"

Gordon squinted. "Sooo, definitely him. The real question is who took the job."

Jet shrugged. "Probably nobody in SCORPIA. We all know the rules."

Gordon huffed. "I wouldn't be so sure. We've got people who could do that. Hell, I'd do that for operational costs and a bottle of Scotch. Nice Scotch, but still."

Yermalov interjected. "But why obey him rather than the board? It wouldn't make sense unless it was an outsider."

At the moment Yassen and Doctor Three walked in, everybody quit gossiping. "Orion?"

Gordon replied. "In his room. We tried to bring it up delicately and he claims to have nothing to do with it."

The _good _doctor looked at Yassen. Three sounded almost amused. "Of course."

It wasn't like Orion ever claimed any kills. If they didn't have a file with mountains of evidence stating otherwise, you might actually think he was innocent. There was a pause. "Well, far be it from us to stop Orion from getting his package."

Gordon figured if the kid went to the trouble of mail-ordering Blunt's head, he may as well get it. "It's in the mail room, sir."

It would be a short trip to get it. The two men continued on their way. Gordon vaguely wondered if Alex was actually going to be punished. Those two didn't actually look pissed-off, and he was one of the board's favorites. He supposed it probably depended on the loophole the kid found or if he left a paper trail. If they couldn't _prove _the kid was behind it, then they wouldn't do anything to him, no matter how hard MI6 protested. It did kind of seem on the cruel end of what Orion might do, but Gordon wasn't about to judge. "So, do you think they carved in the words before or after Blunt died?"

The Countess was not entirely unamused. "You are a morbid one, Gordon."

Gordon was trying not to cheer, okay? It wasn't every day that bastard you wanted dead for about twenty years died horribly. "Definitely before, then. I mean, I'm not complaining. If the kid did it, he just made my year, right there."

Jet was giving Gordon an entirely amused look. "We are not _supposed _to have favorite students."

Gordon shrugged. "Who cares? Besides, he's a _former _student, Jet. That's different."

Jet was not exactly impartial towards the kid either. Hey, Alex was _charming _if he wasn't committing murder in front of you. He was fun. There was no bitching to speak of and he might actually laugh at your jokes if he was in the mood. Nothing not to like there.

* * *

Alex, for once in his life, was actually expecting Yassen to barge into his room. Alex just looked up from his mountain of paperwork. "Hello, how can I help you, sir?"

It was really hard to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. It was fortunate he did because Three was standing there as well. Yassen just dropped a package on his desk. Alex scooted his paperwork out of the way and grabbed gloves to open it. He had a sinking suspicion he knew exactly what those two had dropped on his desk. Alex sliced open the package. It came with a note.

* * *

_-Alex_

_A deal is a deal._

_-Red_

* * *

He placed it on his desk and opened the package. It was Alan Blunt's head on a silver platter. Alex glanced at the designs and burst out laughing. It was Alan Blunt's head on a silver fucking platter. The designs on the edge were X-rated, you see. Yassen just stared at him for a bit, glanced at the platter, and whacked him upside the head. "Get it, Yassen?"

Yassen rolled his eyes. "I knew I should have beaten the puns out of you."

Alex gave Yassen his most wide-eyed look. "I'm having a hard time believing you two came all this way _just _to give me my package."

Yassen just whacked him upside the head again. "Out with it."

Alex gave Yassen his most hurt expression. "What? I had nothing to do with it Yassen. There is not a single _shred_ of evidence besides this note, which isn't evidence at all."

Alex chanced a glance at Doctor Three. He didn't _look _put out, but considering the man was cheerful while torturing people, Alex wasn't putting stock in that. "Then why, pray tell, is the note addressed to you?"

Alex huffed. "How would I know, Yassen? You've met the lunatics who work in Special Operations, right?"

Yassen retorted. "I think I have one too many sitting in front of me."

Alex gave Yassen his best wounded expression. "Gentlemen."

The both looked at Doctor Three and spoke in unison. "Sir."

The doctor sighed. "I would like this resolved sometime before midnight. Orion, the situation is..._suspicious_."

Alex could sense a speaking prompt phrased as a statement, thank you very much. It didn't mean he was going to give in that easily. "Besides, you act like I had the free time to plan this."

Yassen gave him a look that Alex knew meant he was getting extra close-combat lessons when his ribs were healed. "Evidently, you did."

Alex glanced at the tray but managed to restrain the snigger this time. "Yeah, but I'm on film and a tracker pretty much twenty-four seven. When's the last time I was out of your sight again?"

Yassen was giving him the evil eye. "He has a point, Yassen."

Yassen was not about to be put off. "_Alex_."

Alex gave Yassen a mildly pissed look. "Look, Yassen, you can check my bank accounts until your eyes bleed. You won't find anything dodgy."

Which was, in fact, the truth. Alex had gotten this as part of a _quid pro quo _deal with "Red"; exactly zero money of any kind had changed hands. "You are skilled enough to pull this off."

Alex shrugged. "So are you, Yassen. So are half of SCORPIA's elite operatives. Why am I the only one getting accused here?"

Yassen was giving him the evil eye. "The package was addressed to you."

Alex huffed and then an idea struck him. Yassen was going to _kill_ him. But it would be _fun_.

* * *

Alex turned to Three, momentarily ignoring Yassen. "So if I get the gist of this right, sir, you guys think I arranged it and no amount of words will convince you otherwise."

Three raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

Alex had a sinking suspicion he would be paying for this later. "I've got an idea."

Yassen had no idea why that sentence made him internally cringe, none at all. Could it be that Alex's ideas were usually bad for his life expectancy? The doctor looked at him. Yassen could see the intrigue. Alex was screwed. Definitely screwed. "Yes, Orion?"

Alex was almost manically cheerful, for some odd reason. Yassen would put that down to Blunt being dead. "I want to make a bet."

Yassen nearly had a stroke. It didn't show of course. The doctor looked delighted. Well, delighted to Yassen. For anyone who knew him less well, it wouldn't be as obvious. Betting with the executive board was a bad idea. "Oh?"

Alex looked at the man. "If you find a single shred of evidence that I had anything to do with this besides the note and anything I do or say after this moment in time, you win. If you don't, I win. As a bonus, you get to ask me three questions to try to figure out what to look for."

Three considered it for a good couple of seconds. "What are the winning terms?"

Alex looked amused. "If you win, I take interrogations lessons from you. If I win, you guys take the CIA approach to the assassination on this. As in: We can neither confirm, nor deny our operative had anything to do with this."

Yassen was doing his best not to stare in horror at his apprentice. It was successful, but barely. "Done. You'll have the questions tomorrow morning."

Yassen wondered if he should start praying now. Alex should really know better than to dangle bait like that. Yassen was quite sure the bet was entirely rigged in Alex's favor. There was no way he would have made those terms otherwise. The Doctor then left the two of them alone.

* * *

Alex waited for Yassen to say something. The man had to know full well that long silences made him twitchy. "There are no words in any language to describe your stupidity."

Alex winced. That was kind of rude. "But Yassen, the bet was totally rigged."

Yassen was giving him the look of imminent death. "That makes it worse."

Alex shrugged. "I might be an idiot, but I'm your idiot."

Yassen whacked him upside the head. "Ow. Why do you keep doing that?"

Yassen let out a long sigh. "I am hoping the jarring motion might jar some sense into your brain."

Alex gave him a mirthful look. "The only thing that's going to do is give me a concussion."

Yassen sighed. "You had better pray you are as methodical as you think. When _did _you have time to arrange this?"

Alex gave Yassen a look. "Not while I was in SCORPIA."

The blond man inhaled. Alex wondered if he'd finally pushed it too far. "And why didn't you mention this before?"

Alex gave Yassen his best clueless look. They both knew it was a lie, but there were appearances to maintain. "You only asked for things I did for intelligence agencies. You never said anything about stuff I did purely for personal gain."

Cossack just looked at him. Alex was pretty sure that look was partly disbelieving. "I would have thought that was obvious."

Alex shrugged. "Well, no. It's not like there's Criminal Resumes 101: What Shit you Tell your Boss About, anywhere in any curriculum."

Alex's boss was not at all amused. "I am somewhat curious, Alex. What _did _you pay with if not money?"

Trust Yassen to think of the money first. Alex resisted the urge to snort. "It was quid pro quo, Yassen."

Yassen seemed almost impatient. "What task was worth Alan Blunt's life?"

Alex wondered if he should reveal this little tidbit. "Well, you see, I helped someone rob the Kremlin."

Alex wasn't quite sure of the meaning of the phrase Yassen muttered in Russian, but he was quite sure it wasn't flattering in the slightest. "You stole from _The Kremlin_?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, yeah. Ian taught me how to. It's not _that _hard, really Yassen."

Yassen's eye twitched in his general direction. "If this was the Cold War, you would be a dead man."

Alex retorted. "Good thing the Berlin Wall is long gone, then."

Yassen inhaled again. "Congratulations Alex, you get extra close combat lessons when your ribs are healed. I want a twenty-page essay on why taunting people more powerful than yourself is a bad idea by the end of the week."

Alex did his best to suppress his groan. Twenty pages. "I hate you."

Yassen looked more amused than anything else now. "I know."

Alex had one question. "Why are they afraid of me now?"

Yassen gave him an almost pitying look. "Alan Blunt was meant to be untouchable."

With that, Yassen left the room. Alex looked at the head and then at the platter. "Looks like we win, Red."

* * *

Alex remembered meeting "Red" in Russia. MI6 and the CIA had left him there for a few days. Naturally, Alex had not wanted to stay in his hotel room and had managed to find trouble while sightseeing. Alex was rather resigned when a woman who looked disturbingly like the female version of Yassen Gregorovich had pulled a gun on him. "What do you want?"

The woman gestured to a nearby restaurant. "We will talk there."

Alex retorted. "You brought the gun just to talk? Yeah, right."

The woman had a hint of amusement in her eyes. They weren't as blue as Yassen's, but they came close. "The gun is for emphasis."

Alex sighed and ordered what he was pretty sure were the fruit dumplings he liked. "All right. What do you want?"

The woman sighed. "Five years ago, you and your uncle robbed the Kremlin. There was no evidence left. No DNA evidence, no camera footage, nothing. I want you to do that again."

Alex glanced at her. The Kremlin had actually important information. Like, stuff terrorists would want. He wasn't about to just steal from there. "Why?"

The woman sighed. "I want to destroy my file and my existence in the state system."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Running from trouble?"

The blond strands were kind of attractive, but Alex was more focused on the fact that he might die. "Something like that. I need to get away from the government."

Alex felt his lips twitch. "Me too, lady. Look, if you promise to kill Alan Blunt, I'll do it and will try not to ask annoying questions."

It was worth a try. If she could track him down, she could probably get to Blunt. Alex had done it just by following the man home once or twice. "What did he do to you?"

Alex scowled. "I don't know, what did the Russian government do to you?"

He really didn't want to talk about it. The woman considered it long enough for Alex to check for escape routes. "Well, Cowboy, it looks like we have a deal."

Alex noticed her accent was not actually a Russian one. Maybe Ukranian?" But since that nickname, soo fired shots. "Well, Red, shall we get started? We're going to need a plan for this. You don't _just_ break into the place without a plan."

The woman shrugged. "So take me back to your hotel room."

Alex drawled. He couldn't resist the urge to taunt the woman. "My, my. What will the neighbors think?"

The woman fired back. "That you grew a pair and hired a prostitute. Are we going or not?"

Alex choked back a laugh and hastily set what he hoped was the right number of bills down. "Right. Time to go."

* * *

Alex took another glance at the box as he forced himself out of his memories. "Looks like we win."

Alex doubted anybody would know the full story. The evidence had been erased by him and Smithers. He went back to his paperwork. Yassen needed a lot of things done and he also had his education to work on.

* * *

Note: I might edit this later or do a prequel. No guarantees, though. The Doctor is acting friendly because a) Alex did well recently despite his injuries, b) he derives some amusement from the whole thing, and c) Alan Blunt was supposed to be untouchable if Alex can kill him with a phone call, who's next?


End file.
